All I Wanted Was A Sandwich
by pixie4sparks
Summary: I wished that when people looked at me behind all the makeup they'd see a frightened girl, abandoned by the only person she'd ever loved. But, I figured at a young age that wishes don't come true.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the **_**Outsiders**_**.**

**Sylvia's Point of View**

Every time I leave my tiny, rundown house, I get looks from the people that I pass; every single time.

You might think that it's a good thing to be the center of attention all the time.

Yeah, not in my case.

The looks are actually glares. Mostly from girls, many of whom I've never said two words to. They look at me like they know me. Like what they heard from Anna Funches, in fourth period English class was true. The rumor might be that I hooked up with another girl's boyfriend or that I was eight weeks pregnant with my boss's baby. But, I try not to sweat it. Rumors like that have been going around since I was in the seventh grade.

Sometimes, the glares are from adults. They hear things too.

When I ask a teacher for help, they just give me a look that says "You're not going anywhere in life anyway. So, I won't waste my time on a slut like you."

Those looks are why I don't hang out with girls. Because no matter what they're always judging me. It's the same thing with school. I used to really try. But, when my teachers stopped acting like they cared for me to do well, I stopped putting any effort in and later dropped out.

I can't look for love in friends, teachers, and I sure as hell can't look for it at home. So, that's why I turned to guys. Because, I'd rather hear "I love you" and know he doesn't mean it, than not hear it at all.

So, that's how I became Tulsa's resident slut; by looking for love.

Before, people started hating me I was no Cherry Valance but, I did have _some _friends back then. But, when I was twelve my mom, who I loved dearly was arrested for prostitution. I didn't know that she was selling herself for money; I don't think my dad did either but, he was unemployed and too drunk to care.

My mom had a list of all her clients and she threatened to release the names if the district attorney prosecuted her. Apparently, she had respectable guys in the community as clients; priests, judges, and cops. So, the D.A. dropped the charges against her. Somehow though, the list still got out. A lot of her clients were married men. I recognized some of the names as my friends' fathers. It caused an absolute uproar, especially by the women who were married to my mom's clients.

My mom was the joke of the town. So, a couple months after she was first arrested she decided to ditch town. I'll never forget that day. I already had a sucky day at school. I was the prostitute's daughter, the butt of every joke and soon people believed that like my mother, sex would be my only talent. When I came up on the driveway she was putting her things in the car.

"_Where are you going?" I asked, still trying to fight back tears from my day at school._

"_I'm leaving, to Nevada, then maybe California," she said._

"_Well I want to go with you," I said, pleading with her._

"_No, I need to get away from this fucking town. You can stay here. Nobody will bother you, you're just a kid," she said, so sure of herself._

"_But, people are already teasing me! Plea—" I cried, before getting interrupted._

"_Sylvia! You'll just have to deal with it!" she shouted so loudly I took a few steps back. She saw the fear in my eyes and her eyes turned softer. "Look, I'll be back soon. I promise. Until then, make something of yourself Sylvia. Don't be like me, be extraordinary Sylvia, be extraordinary. Promise me you'll be extraordinary." _

_I nodded and with that she took a final look at me before getting in her car and driving off._

That was nearly five years ago, I haven't seen her since.

"_Be extraordinary Sylvia, be extraordinary," my mom had said._

So much for being extraordinary, I'm just a common whore who's good for one thing and will never amount to anything else. But, I don't feel bad. I broke my promise of being extraordinary and she broke her promise by saying she'd come back.

I sometimes wonder where she is though. Does she know that to this day I am still paying for her choices every time I walk out the door?

My stomach grumbling obnoxiously brought me out of my thought. I sighed and went back to the kitchen for the third time, hoping food would magically appear. No such luck.

My dad was out getting wasted as per usual so I was left to get something to eat by myself.

_Huh, a sandwich sounds really good right about now and you can't go wrong with a sandwich._

So, I grabbed my jacket and headed outside into the bitter October cold, preparing myself for the glares.

And as Charlotte Duke and Abigail Shouna looked at me with identical, menacing glares; I wished.

I wished that when people see me eating alone they'd invite me to sit with them.

I wished that people would stop avoiding me as if I was contagious. Like, if they stood too close to me they would catch the slut virus.

I wished that when people looked at me behind all the makeup they'd see a frightened girl, abandoned by the only person she'd ever loved.

I wished for people to see the innocent twelve year old who for five years has been paying for her mother's mistakes.

I wished for people to see the girl I really am. The girl who has to work fulltime as a waitress only to barely make ends meet, the girl who has to walk her father to his bed because he's too drunk to stand, the girl who cries herself to sleep every night.

But, I figured at a young age that wishes don't come true.

I figured right because as I walked into Lorenzo's Sandwich Shop my brown eyes met icy blue ones. They were the eyes of newly released convict; Dallas Winston.

_Great._

**Author's Note: Well, what did you think? Should I continue? The extraordinary thing is from the brilliant show "Grey's Anatomy" created by Shonda Rhimes. It fit in here and it's one of my favorite quotes so I put it in here. The title of this story will tie to the end! I promise! Please leave a review!**


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